


Threat of the Night

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: The Night Chronicles [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Everyone's a BAMF, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gang Leader Bakura Ryou, Gang Leader Marik Ishtar, Gang Leader Mutou Yuugi, How Do I Tag, Multi, Not Beta Read, Polyamory, Sequel, bad things happen ok, just read the summary, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-02-17 19:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13083897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Things have settled down for the kings and their consorts, but the warning still hangs heavy in the air. Zorc will return. But they’ll be ready… Won’t they?In the meantime, they just have to deal with the god’s remaining lackeys trying to overthrow their rule - no big, right?(Possible update in the near future).





	1. A Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, welcome to the sequel to Edge of the Night. If you haven't read it yet, you should really go do that before you read this. You'll be really confused if you don't.  
> Anyways, yeah, welcome back to this story! I'm very happy to finally be posting it, so I made it a Christmas present to myself and all of you! (I don't actually celebrate Christmas but w/e, maybe you guys do!) I hope you all enjoy, and be sure to tell me what you think!

It was odd to be here again, Malik thought.

Well, no, it wasn’t so much odd to be here as it was odd that it was so incredibly empty. Valhalla, their little Hall of the Gods, was usually so bustling with life nowadays… Odd, in and of itself, when one put thought to it, because the real meaning of Valhalla was “Hall of the Dead”.

But, yes, he thought it was odd to be here when it was so… Desolate.

Of course, it was not empty. It never was. But this was still, for want of a better word, _odd_. It had been nearly 18 months, now, since he’d last stood in this room alone with the other Kings. They’d had the others with them every time they’d come here, since. There was nothing they couldn’t share with those four.

It must have been pretty damn important if Yugi had thought they needed to meet privately.

“Alright,” He sighed, sitting rather rigidly on his chaise. For once, he felt nervous. Unsure. “I’m here.”

Ryou shifted on his cushions. He was sitting up, legs tucked up under him. His hair was messy. He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed - unsurprising, seeing as it was currently 4 in the morning (and the only reason Malik, himself, didn’t seem as tired as he was was because he’d already been up prior to Yugi calling him). “Lovely,” He yawned weakly, “Then we can get started and I can go back to bed soon.”

Yugi just sighed and twiddled his thumbs, nodding. “Yes, yes, I know it’s early and it’s weird to call a private meeting, but I wanted you two to know this information first… With no chance of anyone else hearing.”

Ryou made a face at that. “What information is so important that it needs to be confidential?”

“It’s not so much that it’s important as it is that it’s… Frightening. And I don’t want to startle anyone else yet.”

“Fine, lay it on us.” Malik scowled slightly.

“Fine.” Yugi’s firm, blank expression was all-too familiar. It was his business face. The face he made when he didn’t want his emotions in the way.

He hadn’t made it in something like 8 months, so seeing it was rather disconcerting, to Malik. A _lot_ of things were disconcerting to him, at the moment, though, so he couldn’t be sure if it was because of how long it had been or just general discomfort with the entire situation he was currently in.

“Well?” Ryou prompted, voice lacking any venom, though it was surely meant to house some.

“Zorc is going to come back.”

Malik’s heart stopped.


	2. A Lazy Morning

Contrary to what he’d originally expected, Ryou _did_ manage to fall back asleep once he arrived back at his home.

His dreams, to his delight, were not influenced by the information he’d been given during Yugi’s impromptu meeting early that morning. His sleep was not interrupted, and what hazy dreams he had seemed to be vaguely pleasant - but that, he supposed, was the advantage of sleeping next to Bakura. Of sleeping next to his love. His mind was always so much more at ease when he was there, wrapped up in his arms.

That said, he still had plenty of problems in his head. They didn’t all just go away because of Bakura being nearby.

Specifically, he had a green-eyed, sassy problem, that shouldn’t have been able to talk to him, but could anyway.

_We should tell him, you know._

Ryou tried not to groan, now that he was awake. He didn’t want to wake Bakura. He was too comfortable. Too content. Waking Bakura would likely change that because Bakura didn’t really like just laying around in bed without doing anything.

 _You should shut up._ Ryou bit back, annoyed.

_You know I’m right._

_I never said you weren’t. But fuck off. Let me be cozy._

_I didn’t say you had to tell him right now._

_Then why are you so fucking insistent about me telling him?_

_Because if I don’t get you to agree to it right now you’ll never do it?_ Green-eyes suggested, clearly unamused. _I know you, Ryou. I_ **_am_ ** _you._

 _Fine, fine, I’ll tell him. Just not right now. And if today starts off good with him I’m waiting for tonight to bring it up._ He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, sigh, make it _known_ how exasperated he was, but, again, he didn’t want to wake Bakura up.

 _Fair enough._ Green-eyes gave the clear impression that he was shrugging.

He relaxed a bit, that irritating conversation over and done with. He wasn’t sure when he’d tensed, honestly. Usually that would have woken Bakura up, or at least made him stir. _Especially_ since his return 18 months prior. Sure, he was paranoid and easily worried before, but after 3 and a half years away he’d gotten exponentially worse.

Ryou couldn’t blame him.

Especially not now, when so much as a sigh from Bakura was enough to wake him from a deep sleep. Paranoia was a bitch and he’d very nearly punched Bakura in the face the first time Bakura had actually woken up before him. All he’d done was sit up, yawn, stretch, and then sigh, and suddenly Ryou was awake. If he didn’t have such amazing control over his body, he’d most likely have ended up breaking Bakura’s nose… Which was _not_ something that was high on the list of things he wanted to do to his lover.

Although, it was certainly on the list some days.

Not breaking his nose, specifically, but hurting him, in general. Usually he shrugged it aside. It wasn’t hard to ignore his violent tendencies with ‘Kura around. Not that it was hard to ignore them in the first place - it was just easier with his Thief King there to ease his urges.

And, boy, had that been a shocker when he’d first learned about it.

Not only was Bakura nearly _twice_ his age, he was the ancient Egyptian Thief King he’d so long idolized. The very person he’d based his entire visage on when he’d become the Bandit King. They didn’t often discuss the details of his life before they’d met, but from what Ryou understood “weird black magic bullshit” was to blame for Bakura being with him at the present time. And if that was the case, Ryou was only too glad for it.

He didn’t know where he’d be right now if he hadn’t met Bakura.

 _Dead, probably_. He reasoned.

He shifted and threw a leg haphazardly over both of Bakura’s, arm across his chest, face buried in his shoulder. His eyes fell closed again, and he would have been more than happy to fall back asleep. But of course, as his luck would have it, he didn’t get the chance.

“Something bothering you, love?” Bakura’s voice rumbled softly, thick with sleep, breath rustling his hair.

Ryou only hummed in question, choosing not to move or reply yet. Maybe if he acted sleepy enough, Bakura wouldn’t try to get up. Sure, it was a long shot, but sometimes a long shot was the only shot he had. He had to at least _try_.

Bakura’s response to his sleepy act was a somewhat annoyed puff of air. “I know you’re awake, dammit. More awake than that, at least.”

Ryou sighed - so much for his long shot. “Yeah, yeah, I’m up.” He grumbled, burying his face further into Bakura’s shoulder. He wasn’t ready for this, yet. Couldn’t the questions and getting back out of bed wait for another couple hours?

He stayed quiet after that. He knew he was annoying Bakura, and that annoying Bakura would likely lead to the other getting out of bed without him and leaving to fume for a while, but he just… _Really_ didn’t want to talk about this yet. He only wanted to cuddle.

“Ryou.” Bakura said after a long silence. He didn’t sound as irate as Ryou had expected, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t irritated. “I can tell something’s on your mind.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He immediately snapped.

He didn’t mean to. He felt Bakura stiffen up under his limbs and resigned himself to the fact that he was either about to be cursed at, or left alone in the bed. He hoped for the cursing. He hoped and prayed that Bakura would only snap back at him. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

He didn’t realize he was shaking until Bakura gave a sigh and softly shushed him, rubbing his back in slow circles.

“Okay. Fine.” Bakura said, voice somewhat defeated, “But you have to tell me eventually. No more secrets, remember?”

No more secrets between them. That was right - they’d promised that the night Bakura came clean about his origins. That was the night Ryou finally told Bakura about Green-eyes, and his fling with Malik. Bakura had only really seemed concerned with the existence of Green-eyes; he’d accepted the affair with a shrug and an off-handed comment about how he’d suspected as much.

“I remember.” Ryou agreed softly.

He attempted to force himself to stop shaking. There was no reason to be panicking right now. Everything was fine. It wasn’t like Bakura was going to disappear on him again. Bakura never went far when he went off to sulk - a few blocks away, at most. But that didn’t stop him from having a near panic attack each time. That didn’t stop him from thinking, “What if?” And it most certainly didn’t stop him from sitting in silence, near tears, until Bakura came back.

It was still a fairly familiar state to be in, really. He’d been in that state for a solid month after Bakura had disappeared, before his grief had morphed rather grotesquely into an _urge_ ; an all-consuming, sadistic _need_ , to ruin everyone else’s lives. That need had, with some time and the eventual disappearances of Marik, and then of Yami, dulled into a need to target someone in particular and fuck them up every once in awhile.

At first, though, that urge had led to a quite sudden rise in the crime rate of Domino, particularly in terms of mysterious and unusual deaths.

He was kind of glad it had dulled. Lord knew that if he’d continued on that road he’d have gotten caught, and then he wouldn’t be where he was right now. He would never have found Bakura.

He took a deep breath, body stilling finally. Bakura hummed approvingly, rubbing his shoulders.

“Can we just lie here for a while?” Ryou finally spoke after a long silence. “I don’t want to human yet.”

Bakura gave a soft, gruff laugh. “Sure. Just this once, I’ll indulge your laziness.” He kissed Ryou’s head, smiling into his hair. “Mostly because I don’t want to human yet either.”

Ryou’s tiny “yay” did not go unnoticed, but it did go unacknowledged. Bakura didn’t want to chance a fight yet. Not that he could even be sure a comment on how cute it had sounded would cause a fight. If Ryou was anything at all, it was unpredictable - Bakura knew that all too well. Even before he’d disappeared in the first place, he’d found out once or twice exactly what Ryou was capable of when pushed.

Though from what he’d heard, Ryou was capable of much worse now, and definitely indulged himself much more while he’d been actively involved in taking over the city.

“That reminds me,” He said aloud, following that train of thought, “How’s the whole ‘ruling the city’ thing working out for you if you never do anything?”

Ryou gave a soft laugh, adjusting himself to look up at Bakura’s face. “I don’t _have_ to do anything, love. Zen has it covered, at least for the most part. He’s more than capable, and I can deal with anything he fucks up without even leaving the house.” There was a brief pause while Ryou traced indiscernible patterns over Bakura’s bare chest. “Believe me when I say I used to be much more active, but after Yugi had the simply _lovely_ idea of letting our Lieutenants do the hard work while we relaxed, I did exactly that. With haste.”

“Lazy.” Bakura teased.

Ryou only laughed again, expression showing no trace of his prior irritation. It showed only affection - adoration, even. Bakura had no doubts that Ryou loved him very, very deeply indeed.

But just because he didn’t seem angry didn’t mean it wasn’t still in there, festering away.

He shoved the thoughts aside, because as much as he knew Ryou to be unpredictable, he also knew that he wasn’t likely to hurt him. He might _want_ to, and he might even actually do it, but it’d never be bad. Not to mention, if he did hurt him he’d do everything in his power to make him feel better and make up for it. His schadenfreude didn’t really cover legitimately hurting people he liked.

Not unless they enjoyed it, but then that was his sadism taking over at the same time as his eagerness to please.

“Are you ready to human yet?” He asked a few minutes later.

Ryou gave a sleepy-sounding hum, looking up at him. He blinked at him once or twice, then, with a sigh, nodded. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Alright. What do you say we get some coffee or something and then curl up on the couch and watch some movies?”

Ryou perked up considerably. “Okay!”

He practically bounced out of bed, and Bakura just stared after him with an expression he _knew_ told anyone who could see it just how much he loved this man.

He was almost pleased to find that the knowledge of how obvious he was about his affection didn’t bother him. In fact, it almost made him proud, now, when before it had been terrifying to think of anyone knowing how he felt for the younger male.

He grinned to himself and followed his lover’s example with just a tad less enthusiasm.

* * *

“You’re back.”

It wasn’t a question, but Malik wasn’t really expecting it to be.

“Have been for three hours.” He snipped back against his better judgement, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything else. He’d fought with Marik enough already today. He didn’t need to make it worse by being a smartass. He kept his eyes glued to the countertop in front of him, lower legs tensing periodically where they were wrapped around the legs of his barstool.

There was a long silence, and then strong arms wrapped around him. Marik’s nose nuzzled into the back of his neck. For a moment, his whole body was tense, and then he relaxed into the touch with a sigh. Marik sighed as well. They stayed like that for a moment before Malik received an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the side of his neck.

“I’m sorry.”

His heart stopped.

The world _had_ to be ending. Marik didn’t apologize. He didn’t have it in him. He couldn’t drop his pride long enough.

Instead of addressing that explicitly, he allowed himself to smile a bit and say, jokingly, “Who are you and what have you done with Marik?”

It had the desired effect - Marik muffled a laugh in his shoulder and nuzzled against him. “He’s tied up in the bedroom waiting to be ridden to freedom.”

The tenseness melted from Malik’s shoulders. He laughed. “Maybe I should help him, then.”

“So _now_ you’re in the mood?” To his surprise, Marik didn’t sound angry. There was nothing but genuine curiosity in his tone.

It still made Malik’s heart speed up in fear - not because he was scared of _Marik_ , because he most certainly wasn’t (Ryou was scarier than he was, anyway), but because he was scared of getting into another fight with him. He didn’t want to fight. He just wanted things to be normal. Or as normal as they could manage, at least - some cuddles here and there, sex, maybe actually sleeping in the same bed.

But talking about that always made them fight.

Because, not for lack of trying, Marik wasn’t _good_ at ‘normal’ and ‘romantic.’ And Malik wasn’t good at accepting that because he was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted, no questions asked. Being a mob boss for so long really hadn’t made him any less of a spoiled brat than being Marik’s lieutenant before had.

“It’s been four and a half hours.” Malik shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “But if you’re going to be like _that_ …”

“Be like what? It was an honest question.” Marik pulled him closer before he could pull away. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad…”

“I’m not.” He sighed, leaning into his chest. “I just don’t want to fight again.”

“Then we won’t fight.” Marik pressed another uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the side of his neck. “I’m gonna try to be a better person today… And tomorrow. And hopefully forever.”

Malik considered that. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Malik shifted slightly. “I fully support that and honestly I’m gonna have to try to do the same thing. I’ve been a huge dick as of late.”

“You’re a mob boss.” Marik snorted, “It’s to be expected.”

Malik tried to reply, but couldn’t. Mostly because he lost all train of thought when Marik nibbled on his neck. Instead of whatever response his brain had come up with, all that came out of his mouth was an embarrassingly desperate sounding moan. Marik muffled a laugh in his skin and began working on a hickey, one of his hands sliding slowly down Malik’s abdomen.

Malik groaned, tilting his head to give the older man better access, and let his mind go blank. He guessed that was why he found himself somewhat surprised when he realized he was now sitting on the counter, leaning back on his elbows with his pants around his ankles. Marik was between his thighs, alternatively nibbling on them and biting down hard. Each action wrenched a moan from him, but some of them were _definitely_ a little louder than the others.

Soon enough he was yanked toward his boyfriend, lower back and everything below it hanging off the counter. One of his legs was pushed up until his knee was touching his shoulder. The other soon followed. It stung, of course, because he wasn’t exactly flexible, but he was a masochist so it was all good.

It reminded him of Ryou, though, and how the Brit was perfectly capable of folding completely in half if the situation called for it. He gave brief thought to whether or not he’d be able to convince Marik and Bakura to let him continue his little affair with the Brit. It probably wasn’t likely - but maybe a foursome every once in awhile? He could live with th-

His thoughts cut off when he felt Marik prod at his entrance. He couldn’t help giving a whine of need. Sure, no prep would hurt, but, again, he was a masochist and at this point it was just part of the routine.

As such, he didn’t hiss when Marik just pushed right into him without a moment’s hesitation. He just moaned softly and clenched his fists, holding tightly to the counter. He expected Marik to shove as far in as possible right off the bat, but he didn’t. He continued the slow slide into him all the way to the hilt, drawing out the delicious sting of the stretch and making Malik tremble right off the bat.

“Like that?” Marik growled softly, leaning in as close as he could.

Malik was admittedly a little bit surprised when he found the answer to that was an honest yes. He gave an affirmative noise, thighs twitching in Marik’s grip. Marik grinned dangerously and drew out just as slowly as he’d entered.

For the first time since they’d met, Marik went slow and careful. He made up for the lack of ferocity this time around by managing to brush Malik’s prostate which each lazy, rolling thrust of his hips. Malik enjoyed it, despite his usual preferences for sex, and he found he didn’t really mind how out of character it was. In fact… He could really get used to this.

Marik leaned in close and kissed him, and that action was just as frenzied and rough as it normally was, but Marik didn’t speed his hips at all. He managed to maintain the slow pace and somehow look and sound like he was enjoying it as much as Malik was. His nails dug into the somewhat smaller man’s thighs, earning a pleased hiss and a nip on the lip.

The combination of rough kisses and the fact that Marik was _making love_ to him, not just fucking him senseless, brought Malik to the edge a little quicker than he’d like to admit. Within a handful of minutes he was panting and shaking, clenching around his lover. His arms found their way around Marik’s neck, one hand fisting in his hair, the other simply pressing hard to the back of his neck.

He was begging, quietly, and he realized that, and Marik obliged without asking for specifics for once. He took hold of his cock and stroked lazily in time with his thrusts.

Both of them laid there, panting, for a moment or two after they’d finished, and then Marik pulled out, picked Malik up, and carried him to their bedroom despite his quiet protests. He quickly divested both of them of their rumpled clothing, tucking Malik into the bed before climbing in with him. He wrapped himself protectively around him, pulled him close, and drifted off to sleep.

Malik didn’t fall out quite as quickly. For a while he just laid there, warm and safe, and listened to the way Marik’s breathing evened out. He enjoyed it for as long as he could before he finally joined his lover in the dream world.

* * *

Much like Marik, Yugi did not manage to fall asleep after returning to his home.

He guessed that was fine, as it was probably his own fault anyway, but he couldn’t help wishing he’d managed. He was tired - exhausted, really. And now, of course, it was too late (or, rather, too _early_ ) for him to get any sleep. He had things he needed to do, people he needed to see, and none of it could really be called off at the last moment just because he was a little sleepy.

He was still the Pharaoh.

He still had responsibilities.

Sure, Joey handled the day to day tasks, just as Spectre and Zen handled Malik’s and Ryou’s daily tasks, but meetings with important people and public appearances were up to him. And today? His schedule was fucking _packed_ as of an hour from now. As much as he wanted, he didn’t have the time to crawl into bed with his lovers and fall asleep safe in their embrace. He had to go out in public and pretend to be the ruthless killer and businessman that he’d perfected being over course of the three years before his lovers returned to him.

Although, he’d never really been much of a killer, he was more of a ‘fuck you over in ways that’ll make you wish he killed you instead’ kind of guy. After all, you don’t learn your lesson if you’re dead, and it was always fun to fuck you over again if you didn’t learn your lesson.

He tried to look at the little positives.

His phone went off in his pocket, alerting him that he only had 45 minutes to get ready. He sighed, glancing at his rumpled t-shirt and faded jeans. Why had he chosen to be so professional about his position? Why not be like Malik and wear whatever he wanted? Why not be like Ryou and wear clothes that took like three seconds to take on and off?

He huffed and pushed himself off the couch, trudging as quietly as he could into the bedroom he shared with his loves. The two of them were still fast asleep, cuddled close together and looking _awfully_ inviting. He shook the thoughts away and opened up the closet, carefully laying out today’s suit and appropriate accessories. He considered whether he _really_ needed a shower or not, glancing at himself in the full length mirror he kept leaned against the dresser.

The answer was yes, he decided, because even if the rest of him looked and smelled pretty clean, his hair was a _mess_ and he wouldn’t be able to tame it without washing it. And, since he was shit at washing his hair in the sink, he needed a shower.

He sighed as quietly as he could and went to do exactly that.

He kept it as short as he possibly could, toweling himself off a little more than fifteen minutes after entering the bathroom. He spent a good five more minutes styling his hair, cringing at the reminders his phone was giving him, and brushing his teeth.

With all of that done he meandered back into the bedroom, went through the motions of putting on his suit and the necessary accessories that had, once upon a time, merely been something he wanted to add to it. Now they were a part of his image. The chosen color for his tie, pocket square, and vest for the day was a deep navy, which was a solid contrast to his usual purple and red. The pocket watch and neatly pressed shirt under the rest of his suit were the same as ever, along with the shoes.

With yet another sigh, he buttoned the things that needed buttoning and prepared to leave.

He was stopped from going anywhere by a pair of arms wrapping loosely around his waist, mindful of not rumpling his suit. Yami’s voice, rough from sleep, mumbled into his ear, “You look tired, daw’ qalil.”

He hummed, “That’s because I am.”

“You didn’t sleep?”

“Couldn’t.” He admitted, “There was something eating at me.”

“You could have told us.” Yami reprimanded gently, no anger at all in his voice.

“I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.” He turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his chin. “I’ll tell you about it when I get home, alright?”

“When will that be?” Yami caved almost immediately, and Yugi really wasn’t surprised.

Even Yami didn’t like to mess with him when he was tired and in “King-Mode,” as Joey liked to call it. The funny part was that Yami still hadn’t even seen what he was capable of like that. He’d just heard stories and decided he didn’t want to fuck with it. Atem had encouraged him not to, citing an incident while they were still looking for him where Yugi had judo thrown him across Valhalla.

“Around noon, ideally. At latest two.” Yugi told him. “Don’t miss me too much.” He joked.

Yami chuckled and kissed his forehead. “I’ll do my best.”

Yugi angled his head up, and they shared a slow kiss before Yugi reluctantly pulled away. “Love you. I’ll see you and ‘Tem when I get home.”

“See you then, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so, there were a lot of things that needed to be addressed after the first story, and I've touched on a few of them here. One of those things was the nature of Malik and Marik's relationship - if you noticed that they were a little on the abusive side in Edge of the Night, congrats, because they were written like that on purpose. As of this story, they're both going to be working on that a little in the midst of everything else going on. If all goes well, they may become a healthy, functioning couple by the end.  
> Also, the matter of Green-eyes's existence and Bakura's status as the Thief King was addressed at long last.


End file.
